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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690508">Green-eyed monster</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archesa/pseuds/Archesa'>Archesa</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of sleep, dreams and monsters [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>She-Ra and the Princesses of Power (2018)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure &amp; Romance, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Beginning of Catra &amp; Hordak friendship, Body Horror, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Happy space-bat is best space-bat, Healing, Mention of clones deaths, Mentions of Horde Prime - Freeform, Mentions of creepy cult, Multi, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Soft Hordak (She-Ra), but there's still a long way to there, did i mention angst ?, disaster duo</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-01</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 08:21:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>2</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>6,924</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24690508</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Archesa/pseuds/Archesa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>"Though all is reduced to rubble, Prime shall rise again."<br/>The dust has settled, the rubble has cleared, and Prime is gone. But his influence still bears a heavy weight on Hordak's shoulders in the light of his new-found liberty. An emptiness his mind is no longer content to fill with nightmares, but that comes and haunt his days as well.<br/>A short story of recovery and reclaiming lost identity.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Entrapta/Hordak (She-Ra)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Of sleep, dreams and monsters [3]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1783108</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>20</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>90</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Coming to terms</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I really wanna thank NMZuka for taking my request and providing us with once again great art!<br/>https://archesa.tumblr.com/post/620763917217628160/nmzuka-archesa-replied-to-your-post-alright<br/>Hope you will like the fic!</p><p>This fic also co-evolved, for a lack of better word with this artwork, once again from the amazing-no-I-m-not-boot-licking-I-don't-know-what-you-mean-okay-I-just-happen-to-love-your-entrapdak-drawings-they-always-bring-a-smile-on-my-face NMZuka https://nmzuka.tumblr.com/)</p><p>https://nmzuka.tumblr.com/post/621077536080822272/nmzuka-a-little-bit-of-hordak-comforting</p><p>Chapter 2 coming... I don't know when! but there definitely will be a chapter 2 'cause I don't intend to end the story there... You'll see what I mean...</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The nightmares came and went, becoming less frequent as weeks passed and the horrors of the Horde's coming faded out of view under the planet's constant, gentle healing magic. The wide open chasm torn through the bones of Etheria by Prime's attempt to seize the Heart had finally been stabilised. An intricate combination of tech and sorcery - plants and metal, vines and cables - would secure the edges of the bottomless canyon and keep them from spreading farther apart until time and magic could restore the matter lost to the undying flame that almost purged the entire universe. Princesses, sorcerers from Mystacor, clones freed from the influence of Prime and former soldiers of the Horde – <em>his</em> Horde, not Prime's Horde... obviously... not that it mattered now as both were heavily disbanded... - worked together under King Dowager Micah's orders and Entrapta's enthusiastic guidance to dismantle, relocate and study the ruins of the spires.</p><p>Hordak accompanied her through her journeys, not out of a sudden wanderlust – although it felt better than he would ever admit to leave the confines of Bright Moon, and return to the field, to his work – but because, after weeks of negotiations he'd had no part in, it appeared the princesses and the queen had reached an agreement as to his fate and punishment for his crimes against Etheria. Entrapta would act as his keeper and guardian, and since she had expressed the wish to return to Beast Island to resume her studies and experiments on how damaged First Ones tech intricately changed and corrupted the nature around, it was decided that Hordak would accompany her for as long as she wished to stay there, after they were no longer needed in Bright Moon. Together, they might be able to cleanse the Island, and, with the Heart of Etheria destroyed and the First Ones no longer a threat to their world, find another use for all their left over technology.</p><p>He had accepted this fate with unfathomable relief, the irony of the sweeter than bitter punishment even amusing him as it gave him a foreseeable future to look forward to. Studying. Working. Tinkering with technologies he only started to get a grasp on. With Entrapta.</p><p>His spirits had lifted from this moment, the nightmares become rare.</p><p>Most of his nights were untroubled now. He lay at Entrapta's side, the princess' head nuzzled in the crook of his shoulder, often threading his fingers through a lock she would keep curled close to him, and closed his eyes until sleep unexpectedly claimed him. He woke up rested, more often than not entangled in purple hair, her arms around his waist and his around her shoulders.</p><p>Those nights were a bliss.</p><p>The few that were not... He wished he could forget.</p><p>But as the nightmares became fewer, they also became stronger.</p><p>Those haunted him far beyond his sleeping hours and often resurfaced in flashes during the day, and at the most inconvenient times. He usually managed to dismiss this sudden tension as a malfunction from his body, deprived of the armour that once supported him, and no longer pushed to its utter limits by Prime's will.</p><p>Catra was the first to see through his act.</p><p>It was just a glitch, a brief clench of his fists on the arms of his chair during a council meeting aiming to decide which spire to dismantle next. Yet her eyes immediately shifted from the map where carved figures representing the spires were removed every other week till only remained a few today, her ears flicking down and away from the discussion, and with intent she ran her hand behind her neck and gave him a slow, single nod.</p><p>She stalled, at the end of the reunion, lounging in her chair, with one leg thrown off the armrest, and the other folded against her chest.</p><p>The others left the table one by one, drawing the remnants of the discussions in their wake.</p><p>“Brother? You're not coming?”</p><p>The form of address never failed to make him tense, but the voice itself, so utterly devoid of any malice, had finally stopped gritting his nerves.</p><p>He turned to Kadroh, the amiable demeanour of his brother a stark contrast to Hordak's current state of tired annoyance.</p><p>Calling him '<em>Wrong Hordak</em>' had quickly fallen out of habit as it made '<em>Right Hordak</em>' – as Bow had jokingly called him once, and the growl he hadn't managed to contain had at least ensured there would be no second time – understandably ill-at-ease, and the younger clone – but since he was freed by the titular catastrophic team-free-will <em>before</em> Hordak broke his second reconditioning, shouldn't <em>'Wrong Hordak'</em> be considered the elder? and if Prime had reviewed and erased, albeit ultimately unsuccessfully, all memory of his life before reconditioning, was he really the same person as before? <em>'No, don't go there!'</em>, he chastitised himself – being essentially harmless and willing to go out of his way to make good with Entrapta's long missed lab-partner, had gladly accepted to switch to the name Bow had proposed – that boy was not subtle in the slightest – Kadroh.</p><p>“Brother?”, Kadroh gently repeated. “Do you require help?”</p><p>“No.”, Hordak dismissed harshly. “I just need a moment.”, he added in the face of his brother's disarming worry. “I will regain my quarters afterwards.”</p><p>The other nodded and withdrew.</p><p>Hordak waited till the door closed, till they were alone, pondering how to start the discussion but Catra spared him the trouble.</p><p>“You're still getting flashes.”</p><p>Straightforward. A quality he had appreciated during the months when she was his second in command – the months when she had constantly lied to him and manipulated him, used his grief and insecurities for her own advancement...</p><p>The anger passed, intense but fleeting and unnecessary.</p><p>He elected to nod, unsure his voice would convey the right tone in the wake of his sudden burst of emotions. Emotions were good. Emotions were as far as possible from Prime's programming. But he still had to work on them.</p><p>Catra straightened, shifting to a cross-legged position.</p><p>“Nightmares?”</p><p>“Every night, at first. They have become rare, but... harder to ignore.”</p><p>Her gaze drifted away for a second.</p><p>“I still think I can hear him, sometimes.”, she said, once again lifting her hand to draw her fingers against her nape. “It's like a pressure against the back of my neck, trying to seep where the chip was, as if it knew there was a breach in my defense there. A weak point. I know the others had similar problems. Nettossa was complain- saying.”, she corrected, her first choice of words a poor reflection of the white-haired princess' sheer worry for her wife. “He forced us to turn against our loved ones, I suppose it takes some time to recover from stuff like that.”</p><p>“I guess.”, Hordak eluded.</p><p>They remained in silence for a while, consciously avoiding each other's gaze but somewhat taking solace in the company of the other.</p><p>“Listen”, Catra risked, breaking the silence. “I'm probably one of the worst-fitted person to talk to, but... I don't feel like you would quite fit in Perfuma's therapy group, Scorpia is <em>great</em> at listening but she's in the Fright-Zone now, and Entrapta... It's blindingly obvious how much she cares about you, but she might not be the best person to dwell on these nightmares with over and over again.”</p><p>“She'd be perfectly able to understand-”</p><p>“But she's busy, right? And as much as they love us, we can't expect to have their constant and full attention. Adora's been helping with the nightmares – she insisted I woke her up anytime I had one. But I can't stick to her all day long just in case having a clone coming in the corner of my vision would send me in full panic mode.”</p><p>Hordak gave a reluctant affirmative growl.</p><p>“So, what I'm trying to say is...”, Catra carried-on. “If you ever need someone to talk to – even if I'd probably be my last choice – you can come to me. Maybe I can help, maybe I can't, maybe you won't want to talk at all, then we can just sit awkwardly and play a battle of who-can-pretend-to-count-the-paving-stones-of-the-room-the-longest. The bottom line is : you're not alone in this. It's been rough for a lot of people. But then again... I suppose they don't see the face of their abuser everytime they look in a mirror.”</p><p> </p><p>These last words hit hard.</p><p>He managed to shove them in the back of his mind, to dismiss them. Since when had Catra become perceptive? She had always been, he admitted to himself, and she had shown great talent at pinpointing the things that hurt the most with deadly accuracy. Nethertheless, she was right.</p><p>He had not dared request much during his first weeks in Brightmoon. Being given a space to call his own – they had long renounced calling the luxurious quarters a cell... they had even left the cushions! – being allowed visits, having Entrapta keeping him company, shining like a ray of sun through his days with her enthusiasm when she presented him a problem she was working on, were already privileges he did not expect from the people he had once tried to conquer. Only when Adora herself had come to inquire about him, about his adjustment to this new situation, to his most recent freedom, to his current accommodations, to inquire about – he still had trouble believing it – his <em>well-being</em>, did he address a problem that had pestered him for-what-felt-like-ever. Clothes.</p><p>It was insignificant. A whim. A passing fancy that ended up not passing at all.</p><p>The clothes all clones wore, white fabric and metal tendrils, were designed to reflect Horde Prime's Light and assert the pure uniformity of his dominion on the lesser life forms of his creatures. They were made for practicality, for control, for homogeneity. And Hordak hated them.</p><p>He had tried to tinker with some aspects but had only managed to misalign the connector that pinned the cloak-piece to back ports, which caused him unbearable pain when worn and eventually led to him ripping the fabric and altogether tearing the sleeves and cape off. The halter-neck resulting was at least somewhat familiar, but left his arms and shoulders exposed and plagued him with yet another vulnerability.</p><p>Cold.</p><p>His sanctum, the whole of the Fright-Zone – with a foundry built at its core and complex yet haphazard machinery running in the walls and floors – was always warm. A plague when it came to keeping his experiments from overheating. A blessing when he chose to discard his armour in favor of less constricting clothes in the privacy and safety of his quarters. But here, in Brightmoon, the sheer openness of the architecture, the width and height of the vaulted arches that beamed from the ceiling, the <em>waterfalls</em> they seemed to put in every other room brought a chill to the air that his body could simply not regulate. Entrapta had noticed – of course she did – and wordlessly thrown a plaid over his shoulders and slipped an oversized jumper – in which he felt ridiculous but at least comfortably warm – on him.</p><p>
  
</p><p>His request to have his non-threatening possessions sent from the Fright-Zone had been met with unexpected diligence and only a day had passed until a medium sized box arrived, containing quite anything he did own that was neither patched with some ancient tech or burned to cinders in the aftermath of his brief... disagreement with Catra.</p><p>The clothes had come with a note from Force-Captain – no, not Force-Captain... Princess! – Scorpia, extensively apologizing that nothing more could be retrieved from the ruins of his quarters.</p><p>“Oh yes!”, Entrapta had interjected. “The whole sanctum was torn apart.”</p><p>“I was... settling an argument with Catra and got carried away.”</p><p>“But... everything we had worked on, the portal, the bots, the communication devices...”</p><p>“It mattered not at the time. I had learnt that Catra had sent you to Beast Island. I was... convinced you were dead. And that you died believing I had abandoned you.”</p><p>A strand of her hair had reached for his face, cupping his cheek in the most tender way as she hoisted herself at his eye level.</p><p>“You were... sad for me?”</p><p>“Devastated.”</p><p> </p><p>He reflected on these moments in a different light, now.</p><p>His desire for clothes had been born out of practicality, of the sheer humiliation of the mere thought of showing himself in an open weave sweater and a knitted blanket at whatever council meeting the queen would request his presence. He did not mind showing this side of him to Entrapta – she had seen him, and been there for him, through worse and he whole-heartedly wished she would be with him through the best – but outside of their quarters, and despite She-Ra's forgiveness, despite the merciful judgement of the council, the world remained hostile. But in the aftermath of Catra's remark, he wondered if there was indeed a deeper reason to his request, perhaps the same reason that had led him to destroy his current outfit to begin with.</p><p> </p><p>This thought recessed like the tide only to wash back over him with devastating force a few days later. Ironically, it had been decided the next spire to be dismantled would be the one in Salineas. Given the most inconvenient location of the structure, planted in the middle of the bay and disrupting not only the inhabitants' return but also the sea routes, Entrapta herself would supervise the operations.</p><p>And if Princess Mermista had warmed up to the princess of Dryl during their collaboration against Prime, she was less than pleased to see Hordak set foot anywhere near her queendom.</p><p>“Uh... Tell me why he's here again? I know he's <em>'turned against Prime before the end and at great personal risk'</em> and he's been pardoned, or whatever, but did you, like, have to bring him along?”</p><p>“Well, restoring the maritime routes between the Seven Kingdoms seemed like top-priority”, Glimmer defended, “so we assumed it'd be best for everyone if we could bring this spire down as fast as possible!”</p><p>“Hordak knows the Horde's technology and architecture better than anyone!”, Entrapta interceded when Mermista rolled her eyes, seemingly unconvinced by the queen's candid demeanour. “Together we will work out our way around the spire faster and collect data so we can optimize our dismantlement of the other spires...”</p><p>“Not to offend you, geek-princess, but I really don't care about the data you and your boyfriend may collect.”</p><p>She took in a deep breath and collected herself, starting over again in a calmer tone, leaving behind some of her passive-aggressiveness to state her meaning more factually.</p><p>“What I mean is : You are welcome here and you can come back whenever and stay however long you want, as long as you don't blow up anything.”, she added in a quick afterthought. “But the last time he was here it was to raze my queendom, so I don't want him in Salineas any longer than absolutely necessary. Can't you have someone else give you a hand in that?”</p><p>“As you are well aware”, Hordak intervened, “Entrapta acts as my guardian, it is then to be expected that I follow her wherever she is needed. But believe that I am in no way inclined to overstay my welcome. So I will help to the best of my knowledge to free your kingdom of the reminder of the invasion, help Entrapta work as she intends, and dismantle that spire, then we will be on our way.”</p><p>He could have sworn he saw a flicker of surprise in the princess' expression – as it was the first time he actually talked back to any of them since his... his what? capture? surrender? awkwardly enough not military-enforced invitation to stay in Brightmoon and yet again wait for others to decide his fate – before it shifted to the closest expression she could muster to <em>'regal anger'</em>, which in actually turned out to be <em>'sulking annoyance'</em>.</p><p>“Just... do your thing and stay where I can't see you, space-bat.”</p><p>At least his intervention seemed to have driven the point home, and Mermista hastened to gather them an escort to sail them to the spire.</p><p> </p><p>The spire was shorter than its mainland counterparts, emerging from the water, with its main entrance submerged far beneath the surface. Yet another blatant proof that Prime was not infallible. But as much as this thought comforted him, the mere sight of the tower gave him pause.</p><p>He had remained in Brightmoon, essentially confined in his room, when the first spires – those of the Whispering Woods – had been dismantled. Entrapta and self-proclaimed tech-master Bow had then sent the schematics and instructions to the other realms so that they could reclaim their land with little to no presencial help from the head technical team unless some sort of specifics explicitly required a higher expertise.</p><p>The spire in Salineas was not the first they were called to dismantle since his acquittal but the location and specifics of the tower – he shuddered at the thought of the water damage on the structure and stability of the installation – made so that the vegetation regrown by the discharge of the Heart had only ever reached the water level, leaving the better part of the spire disturbingly pristine and intact.</p><p>The entrance being submerged was not the main problem – underwater work was not really a problem for sea-elves – but it was the cause of a cascade of technical issues, the least of which being the complete lockdown of the spire, a security protocol meant to avoid utter compromising of the tower's integrity if exposed to a hostile environment. The tower would have in turn attuned the pressure inside to that of the outside, but with half of the spire underwater and half exposed to the strange, disturbingly thick atmosphere of Etheria, there was no saying how the structure would have held.</p><p>“So, how do we get in?”, Bow asked.</p><p>“Theorically”, Entrapta trailed, “if the spire can harmonize the pressure inside to its environment, there must be some kind of vent, meant to either purge or filter in the atmosphere of the landing site and restore balance between the inside and the outside.”</p><p>She briefly turned to Hordak for confirmation, which he gave her with a brief nod.</p><p>“But since we have no certitude regarding the integrity of the spire, and no indication on the pressure inside, any breach in the hull could cause either an implosion or an explosion of the spire.”</p><p>“Well, talk about dismantling.”, Catra snickered.</p><p>“And how about we use the structure's frailty to bring it down, from afar.”, Adora proposed, brows furrowed as she tried to peak over the edge of Entrapta's data pad and get a view of the cascade of data still transmitted by the spire. “If a breach in the hull is all it would take to have the spire collapse on itself, why not cause it intentionally.”</p><p>“I suppose we could... But the power-readings I'm receiving from the spire indicate that the reactor core is still active.”</p><p>Her hair bristled with excitement as she switched pads and started extrapolating from the data just collected.</p><p>“If we don't switch it off first, the burst of energy resulting from the sudden disconnection of its support system could vaporise everything in a hundred klick radius!”</p><p>“So... maybe not.”</p><p>“Can we switch it down from here?”, Bow inquired. “Do you have access to the spire's control?”</p><p>She switched back to the first pad, and shook her head.</p><p>“There's a lockdown on primary systems, they can only be accessed from the control room.”</p><p>“A security to avoid having the Horde's own technology turned against it.”, Hordak stated.</p><p>It took a few hours of careful calculation, minutious welding and hacking into the spire's external system to finally get a feedback of the situation inside. The lower decks had spontaneously sealed shut at the first sign of a water breach, leaving only the upper levels and thankfully the control room out of reach of the ocean.</p><p>“There! I found us a path to the different control rooms!”, Entrapta announced, proudly showing them a schematics of the vents and maintenance corridors leading through twists and detours to the central hall of the spire. “All systems must be disconnected in a precise order, from top to bottom.</p><p>“So!”, Bow summed up. “Plan is... We reach the control room, correctly disconnect all systems on our way there, and shut down the reactor, which means the pressure inside the spire will drastically change and the entire structure will collapse so we'll have to get out of there real quick.”</p><p>“Sounds right.”</p><p>“I will teleport us out.”, Glimmer offered. “ And... maybe we should warn Mermista of what we're about to do? I mean, if the tower crumbles, won't that cause a massive wave or something?”</p><p>“Oh, definitely!”</p><p>“That's a plan!”</p><p> </p><p>There was a blink of magic and they all found themselves in a long pristine corridor. Sterile white light flashed ablaze above them, revealing the religiously undisturbed installation of a spire that never served.</p><p>An irrepressible shiver ran through them. Glimmer tightened her cloak around her, hugging herself, and mumbled something about warning Mermista before she blinked away in a flash of rose sparkles. Catra's hair straightened on her neck, Melog curling closer to her in an attempt to comfort her.</p><p>“It feels weird to be here.”, Bow whispered. “Almost like...”</p><p>He left the last words suspended, but they were present, dull and pulsing like a phantom pain in each of their minds. Almost as if Prime was still there.</p><p>“Control room is this way.”, Entrapta said, her voice slightly muffled by her lowered mask as she shifted with the data-pad.</p><p>Hordak reached to comfort her, but froze in his tracks, unsure of the boundaries he was yet to be established.</p><p>Touch and closeness had come as an evidence after everything they had been through. Hands clasped together. Head nuzzled in the other's neck as they slept. Her hair he had been hesitant to touch at first – the memory of his body deprived from his will pulling at her twintails, of her pained scream when he hoisted her off the ground and held her to witness the destruction of the universe, bringing a sour taste in his mouth – but his worry had thawed in the warmth of her embrace as he fell asleep every night and woke up every morning wrapped in a purple protective cocoon. An intimacy beyond thought that progressed seamlessly, slowly, after the great leap of faith their relationship had taken upon their liberation.</p><p>The devastation of loss, the betrayal of abandonment, the simmering miracle of resurrection, the dull aching of separation and the longing of reunion.</p><p>He would forever blame himself for believing Catra's lies, for believing in her betrayal, for unknowingly abandoning her to the throes of Beast Island while he fantasized of meeting her on the battlefield. He should have known better. Should have trusted in her. Should have gone looking for her. Then, even with Catra having opened the portal that almost ripped the time-space continuum apart, even with Prime getting the signal but being unable to ever reach Despondos, maybe they could have been happy... Maybe they would have been spared the abominable pain of these last few months... But maybe...</p><p>His hand found Entrapta's hair, fingers brushing softly against a stray strand. As she turned to him and her tension faded when she lifted the beetle-looking mask to blind him with a smile so much like herself, brilliant, he thought that maybe...</p><p>Maybe all this had been for the best.</p><p>  </p><p>A sudden hiss and a vibrant shift in the lights made them jolt.</p><p>“What's happening?”</p><p>“Aaaaah- The power I rerouted to these parts is dropping! We must hurry!”</p><p>They made their way through corridors and maintenance rooms, the incessant flickering of the light auguring an imminent power-outage. In that case, the chambers and gangways would be sealed, purged and emptied of their atmosphere – a security to avoid corrosion or fire, which were the primary causes of blackout. If that happened, the pressure shift resulting would be the least of their concerns. If clones – even one as defective as himself – could endure exposure to the void for prolonged periods of time, Etherians were much more vulnerable to asphyxia.</p><p>He stopped abruptly, falling behind the group, and rushed to the nearest control panel, shutting the door behind them.</p><p>"Hordak!”</p><p>The edge of desperation in her voice shot a sharp pang of pain through his chest. He hurriedly entered the frequency of Entrapta's data-pad into the room's communicator and offered her a comforting smile when her face appeared on screen.</p><p>“It's okay.”, he said, mimicking her own words of comfort. “The systems are failing. This floor will be purged shortly, you must go on. I will give you some time by closing and evacuating each section manually”, he said, already acting up on his words and purging one by one the segments of corridor they had first gone through, “I can redirect the pressure where it won't fragilize the structure, but our time is running out.”</p><p><br/>
"What about you?"</p><p><br/>
“Hey! ” Catra's voice gritted through the speakers as she popped her head over Entrapta's shoulder. “Don't you shadow-weaver us up, there!”</p><p>“I am not – Did you just use the name of my late second in command as a verb?”</p><p>“Oh yes, we did it all the time.”, Adora mused. “Only behind her back, of course. In that case shadow-weaver up would mean sacrifice oneself with the discutable intention to be the hero.", she extrapolated, earning a careful nod from Catra.<br/>
Hordak repressed the exhalation building in his throat, refusing to give them the satisfaction of a laugh.<br/>
"Well I am touched by your concern, former Force-captain, but I am not one for needless self-sacrifice. And as you know the absence of atmosphere will be of no consequence for me.”, he stated.</p><p>“That's what you meant by 'purged'?”, Bow asked, the urgency in his voice at least proving he caught a slither of the gravity of the situation.</p><p>“Etherian atmosphere will be considered a contaminant by the system. It won't last long but we will loose communications. You must restore the spire's reactor to full capacity to stabilize it before you can disconnect the-”</p><p>The signal jammed, static blurring the image as they reached the lower deck, closer to the reactor core.</p><p>“We will come back for you!”</p><p>He felt his ears flatten back against his skull, and his lips curl into a smile<em>.</em></p><p>“I know.”</p><p> </p><p>The screen turned black, displaying in flashes of cuneiform writing the loss of the signal.</p><p>He backed away, waiting for the power outage to take hold on the remaining systems. The lights turned off, leaving the control room in complete darkness.</p><p>He bid his time knowing the outage would last fifteen minutes, and relying on muscle memory and the built up knowledge of how to operate the spires, walked up to the nearest console where the words '<em>stand by</em>' flashed weakly on the weblike crystal monitor.</p><p>A shiver and an irrepressible sense of dread running him through, his hand hovered the control panel and the silvery lead he knew he'd have to connect to, to access the system. Steeling himself, ruling the trembling of his hand, clenching his jaw when the cold contact of the cable to his skin sent a jolt like electricity down his spine, he freed the port on the back of his neck to plug in the sharp end of the connection to his brain stem.</p><p>The jabbing pain was brief, intense, but familiar.</p><p>The influx of information was surprisingly quiet – not the silent clarity of the hive-mind as it was ruled by Prime, but the sheer emptiness he had left in the wake of his destruction. A silence he now realised once echoed with a million forcibly hushed voices. Free-will quelled by the Light of Prime, by indoctrination, conditioning and crude invasion of any mind within his reach at his will and whim. He briefly wondered how it had come to be, what they were, as a species, before they encountered Prime, if they ever were anything near a natural species and not the result of a genetic and mechanical engineering process born from the deranged depths of an eldritch abomination as old as the universe itself.</p><p>A second connection to the hive distracted him from further examination as a ping reached him in a form his nervous system immediately identified as a... wink?</p><p>Kadroh.</p><p>How he had managed to send an emote through the system was beyond him. But at least it served as a good track as to where the group was now.</p><p>They had reached the reactor core. All systems would soon be back on-line.</p><p>He redirected the influx of power to the vents first, slowly reinstilling air in the corridors and in the control room, carefully managing the pressure to avoid any sudden shift in the precarious equilibrium of the spire. A faint scent of salt and iodure came through the ventilation, replacing the once stale air inside the tower, and signaling what he already suspected : that Entrapta was tinkering with the security system to redirect pressure and stabilize the spire long enough for them to finish their work here, and probably writing a plug-in program that would rule and time the cascade of purges and power-outages to cause the collapse of the tower with optimal efficiency.</p><p> </p><p>He disconnected from the system, the needle retracting from his neck port causing him – in comparison to its penetration – only a slight discomfort.</p><p>The crystal screens turned to silver, in the light of the reboot.</p><p> </p><p>His reflection stared back at him.</p><p> </p><p>He had briefly considered resuming circling his eyes with black, reclaiming piece by piece his identity, in a constant struggle to determine what of it derived from his personal taste or his devotion to Prime. Clothes and hair – that he maintained messily tousled to the side rather than sleeked back – had been evident, but reclaiming his sense of self was not easy when the eyes he saw in the mirror were not his own.</p><p>A slight shift in the power caused the lights to flicker, casting a brief flare in the vast expense of his green irises in the like of a stark white pupil.</p><p>Instinct and rage took over.</p><p>The glass shattered under his fist, but the pain ricocheted in his arm, tearing a gnarl from him and sending him back, jaws clenched, breathing ragged and balance askew till he stumbled back into a nearby wall.</p><p>The brutal contact of cold metal against his neck port threw him over the edge of oblivion.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Twice Lost, Once Found</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    
<p></p><div>
  <p>He came to with a sharp gasp, sat against the wall, shards of broken glass at his feet.</p>
  <p>The lights were back on, the monitor struggling to display the spire's status through its web of shattered screens, and the scent of fresh air still coursing through the vents grounded him, reminding him of where he was, and helped him regain his consciousness.</p>
  <p>His wrist still pulsed with a constant burst of burning pain – to the point he hoped the bones were merely bruised and not broken – but that was nothing compared to the newest source of his torment.</p>
  <p>Catra was sitting beside him, the giant shape-shifting cat that had taken a liking to her purring on her lap as she absent-mindedly scratched its mane.</p>
  <p>“What are you doing here?”, he rasped, the slightest movement sending another wave of fresh pain through his arm.</p>
  <p>“They asked me to go check on you while they're rebooting the reactor. When I arrived you were knocked up, so I sat next to you so it would look like we're chilling.”</p>
  <p>He let out a groan.</p>
  <p>“You mock my pain.”</p>
  <p>“I mocked your pain too much already.”, she sighed. “What happened?”, she inquired, motioning to the shards of glass and shattered monitor before them.</p>
  <p>“Nothing.”</p>
  <p>“Well, it seems like '<em>nothing</em>' has a mean right hook. Can I help you stand?”, she asked, offering him her hand.</p>
  <p>He tore his arm out of her reach, a frown darkening his features.</p>
  <p>“I do not require help.”</p>
  <p>Careful not to catch his exposed neck-port in anything, Hordak rose to his feet, a slight wave of nausea assaulting him as migraine settled, like white-hot metal coursing the nerves from his neck to behind his eyes. A meager price to pay, in the light of the recent improvement of his health.</p>
  <p>As utterly traumatizing his return at Prime's side had been, his progenitor had seemed to see fit to rehabilitate his decaying body to a certain point. His memories worth reviewing, his resilience worth observing, his impudence worth punishing even after his identity had been thoroughly erased, his body – weakened as it was – worth exploiting to the point of utter collapse, when it would be of use in yet another form. Revolting as the synthesis process was, the amniotic fluid was a vital part of the clones' survival – yet another failsafe to avoid a rebellion against their progenitor. Hordak had managed, through careful study of a few drops of fluid extracted from his own spinal port to emulate a substitute akin to the original formula. But the isolation of Etheria, the lack of the essential components rendered prolonged use unsustainable... Deprived of this basic life-support, his body had degenerated even faster than his original defect meant it to... In that aspect, his return to the galactic Horde had been a blessing. The symptoms of withdrawal that would inevitably plague him – and all the other clones – in the months and years to come would be a curse.</p>
  <p>Hopefully, the data collected from the spires scattered all around Etheria would allow him to find a more effective formula without having to retort to Prime's chosen methods. Free-will had this annoying tendency to render life valuable on its own. In this regard, he doubted his younger, newly liberated brothers would any longer see the harvest of their life-force and consumption of their body as a privilege...</p>
  <p>He reassessed his chances of success. Magic had returned to Etheria with all its might – one unseen in a thousand years. What his technology had lacked, he could perfect with the reserves of amniotic fluid remaining in the spires; what he could not extrapolate from incomplete data, he knew the most brilliant mind on the planet would help him bridge with magic.</p>
  <p>A voice came gritting on his nerves.</p>
  <p>“Can I ask you a question?”</p>
  <p>“You just did.”, he snapped matter-of-factly.</p>
  <p>“Why didn't you – or Entrapta – design yourself a new armour? A few months ago 'twas the armour that held you together... what changed?”</p>
  <p>“Given our common history, you will forgive me for not sharing the evolution of my illness with you.”</p>
  <p>He turned his back to her with a huff, only to have his arm caught in a firm grasp.</p>
  <p>“Listen, I'm trying – I'm really trying – to become a better person. To make it up to you and the rest of the gang... I'm sorry, okay! I'm sorry that I lied to you, that I hurt you. I'm sorry that I kept you and Entrapta apart, sorry that I sent her to Beast Island, sorry that I opened that portal...”</p>
  <p>Her voice broke.</p>
  <p>“Sorry that the signal made it through, sorry that it brought Prime onto us. Sorry that I made you remember, sorry that I brought back these memories, and that they hurt so much that you went willingly into that pool. I'm sorry that I was such an idiot. I'm sorry for everything!”</p>
  <p>There was a moment of silence, only troubled by the sound of sharp breathing and the constant, comforting purr of Melog at her side, before Hordak's voice finally broke through.</p>
  <p>“It will take a moment for me to completely forgive you. I might never. But... I acknowledge the effort you put into making things better, and I accept your apology.”</p>
  <p>“Thank you.”</p>
  <p>“As for the armour”, he eventually carried on as they made their way down the maze of corridors to meet the rest of the group to the reactor core, “even if nothing in the judgement explicitly forbids me to wear one, I assumed my presence made the late resistance uncomfortable enough without me parading around Brightmoon in full battle-gear. Once we set off to Beast Island, I will ask Entrapta to design another exoskeleton. In the meantime, I can manage without.”</p>
  <p> </p>
  <p>The sun was declining, casting the bone white surface of the spire in a spectrum of gold that clashed against the rose of the sea and the purple of the sky. There was a strange sense of peace, of completion, in seeing Salineas bathed in red, not by the flames of war, but the gentle light of sunset.</p>
  <p>At the edge of the Sea Gates, a faint agitation betrayed the presence of the princess, ready to unleash her powers to control the wave.</p>
  <p>Glimmer reappeared at their side, informing them that everything was set.</p>
  <p>Hordak retreated from the edge where the group pressed themselves around Entrapta's monitor and took in a few soothing breaths.</p>
  <p>His vision, and the irrational violence of his reaction, had left him drained, emotionally and physically. The sooner this was over with, the sooner they would return to Brightmoon and the sooner he would regain his quarters – if the queen and the alliance had no need for him, that was.</p>
  <p>There were a few projects of his own he could work on before he'd let sleep and nightmares claim him. The prototype of the armour he was working on, based on the schematics of the exoskeleton Entrapta had made for him – long destroyed by Prime – was a close second to the more pressant matter of disabling the signal from Beast Island. Entrapta's long stay on the island, he suspected, would have weakened her defenses – strong as they were – and ultimately made her more susceptible to the self-destructive power of the aforementioned beast. As for him, his own insecurities and traumas were so close to the surface that the beast would barely have to whisper for him to lie down and die.</p>
  <p>No! He was stronger than that. He willed himself free of Horde Prime's influence. He had reasons to live much stronger than spite – that had gotten him this far. Nothing to prove, safe to himself. And a whole new life to experience. Hopefully years before his health finally failed him again.</p>
  <p>Caught up in his own reflexions, he had not noticed Kadroh getting closer to him, to come stand at his side.</p>
  <p>“Are you alright, brother.”, he inquired. “You seem distraught.”</p>
  <p>“Pensive.”, Hordak corrected.</p>
  <p>“I understand... These last weeks have been overwhelming, with the resistance against Prime, victory over his despotism and the liberation of our people... But it's thrilling”, he added excitedly. “with every spire brought down, we get further from Prime's memory... And closer to reclaiming our homeworld.”</p>
  <p>Hordak let out a huff. “What homeworld?</p>
  <p>“Etheria.”</p>
  <p>The blatant evidence in his tone took Hordak aback.</p>
  <p>“I have seen what you were looking for in the hive... Where we come from... The extent of what Prime took away from us... But whatever Prime did to us, however he first came to us, it's been so long that there can be nothing left out there for us, nothing to return to. Etheria is our home-world now, Brother. We are Etherians.”</p>
  <p>Hordak smiled, the blunt wisdom of his brother hitting him harder than it ever intended to, as it echoed one of his past insecurities, something he forbade himself to ever consider, but that in the end had been his downfall with prime and his ultimate salvation. Going native.</p>
  <p>Entrapta cast him a glance, the setting sun and glistening of the sea casting her face in a stunning replica of a most cherished memory.</p>
  <p>It was true... With every spire brought down, the blinding light of Prime faded, leaving in its wake a clearer, brighter vision of the future. Another few months to rebuild Etheria and rehabilitate Beast Island. And after that... Dryl.</p>
  <p>He had had his troops siege the mountain kingdom once, in hope to recapture her after her alleged betrayal. Of course she wasn't there, but the intricate traps and the complexity of the defence of the castle had rooted even deeper his conviction that she had turned against him. What a fool he had been.</p>
  <p>A strand of hair tugged at his hand, and broke him out of his spiral of self-loathing.</p>
  <p>The dispute he had been vaguely aware of, about who should have the privilege to push the button that would bring the tower down had died out, and all eyes were now turned towards him.</p>
  <p>“You should do it.”</p>
  <p>“What?”</p>
  <p>“Destroy the spire.”</p>
  <p>He reluctantly approached the edge, unsure how an act of destruction would be taken in consideration of his already precarious place in this unlikely alliance.</p>
  <p>“If you're gonna hesitate this much, I'll blow it up!”, Catra chimed in brusquely, earning a frown and a playful nudge from Adora who in turn addressed him an encouraging smile.</p>
  <p>His eyes trailed down to the data pad where a comically big red button glowed next to an endless stream of commands meant to trigger the cascade of successive failure that would cause the spire to collapse.</p>
  <p>He let his hand hover the touch screen for a second, a smile curling his lips as the last remnants of the spire vanished in the depths of the vast ocean.</p>
  <p>
    <em>'One step closer.'</em>
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  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Comments are love, comments are life, comments are a writer's fuel and makes them post chapters faster! :)</p></blockquote></div></div>
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